Telling Mom
By Elizabeth Wright
I am not sure if it is my wife's acceptance level or my sister's
early death that added to my anguish as I debated telling mom about
my desire to cross dress. You see my wife has not fully accepted Liz
yet, and I was worried that the arrival of a new daughter might bring
back the sorrow of my sister's passing away.
But with Mom's health failing, and her eventual move into our
house, I decided to handle this revelation a bit better than when I
shared Liz's attire with my wife. Since the house was now up for sale
and packing had begun, time was running out.
I had tried to work up the courage to tell mom on a few different
visits, but finally one day after talking with friends from S.C. and
N.C., I went over, sat down and promptly changed the subject. Kind of
like the first kiss back in high school, if you can relate.
So I went over again about two weeks later to try again. This
time, after being there for about an hour, it finally came out. Of
course she was a bit stunned, asked if I was gay, how long, and who
else knew. She also declined my invitation to see Liz. But overall
she seemed okay with it. Mom is 75 now, and just about every
conversation tends to wonder about, never staying on one topic. Sort
of like my writing, just so you know whom I take after.
Then the next weekend, our local newspaper ran an article related
to Mr. Bridge's business and she saw that, which led to another brief
discussion. Well since we don't get many articles like that in S.C.,
I decided why not take my cue and go for it.
But it was not till plans to liquidate some of her household items
(a dreaded garage sale) that the opportunity finally came up for Liz
to pay mom a visit. The night before her garage sale, I spent at her
house to price and arrange the items to sell, hoping to get
everything out before the 7 a.m. rush. An hour or so into the night,
mom, who has a bad heart, decided to rest a spell and I worked on in
the next room. I had already given thought to asking if I could come
out and now the chance was beginning to fade. Well, after a few
minutes she began to feel better and I decided to take a shower to be
ready for the onslaught the next morning. Then on a whim, and since I
was prepared (three outfits, two wigs etc. in the car) I asked her if
I might be able to dress as Liz the rest of the night. Again Mom
seemed reluctant to meet Liz, but said okay. So off to the shower to
shower, freshen up and prepare Liz. It took a good hour and Mom later
admitted to wondering if she should come back to check on me.
Well, when I finally came out, "TA DA!" The smile on her face was
all that I have ever needed. She came over, had me do a couple of
three sixties and gave me a big hug. She was amazed and did not
believe it was me. Yes I was on the ceiling by then. We sat there for
a good hour this time with her really asking question after question.
Then with time running out, Liz and mom got back to the task at hand
of pricing items. We priced until almost 1 a.m. and then off with the
make-up and to bed.
Some of mom's comments ranged from "always wondering why I was so
patient shopping in the women's'' department, to wanting to take me
out shopping with her to pick out some outfits.
I guess we are our own worst enemies and not all stories end so
positive, but the "worries" we create will only keep us in the closet
if we let them. On a side note, mom's dog has always been somewhat
hesitant around men, but as Liz it was a different story. She was
coming up to me all night wanting her back scratched and continues to
do so even now. Imagine that, I guess even she could sense me being
more relaxed as Liz.
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